Titanium Texicans (12 page)

Tasso stripped and stepped into the showers. He let the water wash away the tears.

“Well, well, well. If it ain’t the little lost
gringo
.”

Tasso stiffened at the voice. Without turning, he recognized it. Cruz was a little over a year older than Tasso was. At seventeen, Cruz was a few months away from graduating into full crew status and moving into crew’s quarters. He rarely let anyone forget he was almost crew.

Without looking, Tasso knew Cruz wasn’t alone. Ivan, Eber, and Flacco would be with him. All four of the boys were taller than Tasso, but he’d spent his whole life at hard farm labor, breaking rocks to clear more tillable land and doing it in a higher gravity than any of them. He’d learned to move quickly to avoid stobor. He may have been shy of his seventeenth birthday when he came aboard, but his muscles and reflexes were well developed. On the ship, he continued his habit of working hard.

On the other hand, Cruz rarely did more than was required of him. All four of them rarely did more than was required. Tasso was surprised at that. Every other Texican he had met on the Escorpión Rojo worked hard and they all worked long hours. Even his roommate Rod took pride in his work. Washing dishes may not be glamorous, but Rod worked to do it right and he worked harder at more than he was tasked to do, and as a result, the boy had been advanced to food preparation ahead of schedule. These four seemed to be from a different breed.

Tasso wrote off the difference because people are people. Some are smart and some aren’t. Some worked hard and some didn’t. Some were nice and these four weren’t. He’d ducked them for a couple of weeks. Cruz took it personally that Tasso wasn’t afraid of him. Cruz also seemed to take it personally that Tasso wasn’t a native-born Texican. Whatever the reason, Cruz was on a vendetta to make Tasso’s life miserable.

He knew a fight was coming, but was trying to delay it as long as possible. Tio Gabe had seen the fight coming although he’d never seen Cruz and Tasso in the same room. The old man told Tasso, ‘The Klingon saith, brute strength is not Tchaikovsky’. Most people thought Gabe was going senile. Much of what he said didn’t make sense. The old man rarely said things exactly the way he meant them and he tended to blend his sentences together. Tasso had looked up Klingons and found out they were a warlike race, fictional of course. Tasso found a Klingon quote: ‘Brute strength is not the most important asset in a fight’. He also found a quote from Solomon Short: ‘The only winner in the war of 1812 was Tchaikovsky’. It took a bit more study until Tasso thought he understood the meaning. Tio Gabe was telling him to use his head and not get into a fight if he could avoid one because no one ever really wins a fight.

He would’ve never thought to look up quotes on his dataport, but Tio Gabe had the same look in his eyes that Grandpa got when he was spouting a proverb. It took a little while to find out what Gabe meant most of the time, since the old man was fond of quoting fictional characters.

Cruz had warned Tasso against eating lunch in the mess hall on Deck J, not to exercise in the gym on Deck T and to stay off the promenade on Saturday and Sunday afternoons. Tasso did his best to avoid the four boys in all of those places. Besides, the mess hall on Deck J was too spicy for his tastes, the gym on Deck T smelled too much like old sweat socks, and there were too many people on the promenade on either day.

He wasn’t afraid of the four boys. He was sure he could whip any one of them if they pushed him into a fight. No, the fight wasn’t if, but when they pushed him into it. He was sure he could beat any two of them. He might be able to take any three of them. However tough he was, he doubted he could overcome four to one odds.

Tasso sighed. He was only about halfway through his shower but he shut off the water. If Cruz and company decided to attack, soapy wet skin would serve him better than being dry and clean. The boys had picked a good place for an altercation. The restroom was about the only public room not covered by La Dueña Dunstan’s security cameras.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Tasso said. “How may I help you this morning?”

Cruz spat, “You can get your gringo butt off my ship.”

CHAPTER 12

TASSO MUSTERED up his most agreeable tone, “Would that I could. But, my word has been given for me. I couldn’t leave without breaking my training cruise contract even if we were on a planet.”

“Think you’re smart, don’t you, greenhorn?” Cruz said.

Tasso nodded. “Yes. I guess I do. Thank you for noticing.”

“Smartass!”

Tasso smiled, “See! Even you agree.”

The four boys took the time to circle around Tasso. Tasso continued to turn, keeping Cruz in front of him.

Flacco pushed Tasso in the back. His intention was to push Tasso into Cruz. Instead, his hands slipped on Tasso’s soapy back. The push threw the boy off balance and his feet twisted on the non-slip shower deck. Flacco crashed to the wet deck with a cry.

Ivan and Eber tried to grab Tasso arms, but his soapy skin was hard to grasp. Eber’s long fingernails dug deep trenches across Tasso’s biceps, but he couldn’t get a firm hold on Tasso. He fell backwards as Ivan clamped his other arm tighter.

Tasso braced his feet on the deck. He clenched his fist and punched Cruz in the nose as hard as he could swing. Cruz’s face seemed to blend into the ten-year-old face of Dougall Lamont. Tasso hit both Cruz and Dougall’s faces with both fists as hard as he could.

He turned and slammed a clenched fist into Ivan’s stomach. Ivan doubled over. Tasso turned, throwing a punch to Eber’s face. A blow to the back of Tasso’s head pushed him into Cruz. He saw Eber’s fist aiming for his face. He ducked his head, but couldn’t get out of the way. The blow landed on the top of his forehead. Eber screamed and grabbed his hand.

Flacco grabbed Tasso’s towel and wrapped it around Tasso’s head. Everything went dark. Tasso tried to pull the towel away from his face, but hands knocked his arms away. Blows rained on him from three sides.

Tasso’s knees buckled and he fell to the deck. He tried to cover up, but fists continued to come at him from every direction. It stopped as quickly as it started. Tasso didn’t know why they quit hitting him, not that it mattered why, just that they did. He clawed the towel away from his face. He lay there trying to catch his breath. Cruz and his pals were gone. He could hear them moving in the other room, but he didn’t care. They could go anywhere they wanted as long as they weren’t beating him anymore. He worked his way to his feet. His towel was soaked. He wrung out as much water as he could and hung it on a hook. He turned the water back on and winced as the warm liquid rinsed blood away from his arm.

His tears for his grandfather were gone. He realized he was as angry with his grandfather as he was with his mother. He knew Grandpa didn’t want to die and leave him like his mother did, but he was gone just the same. He was angry with Uncle Bruce for sending him away. Maybe his uncle didn’t know what to do with a teenage boy, but it still made Tasso feel discarded and abandoned. He was jetsam, just as Cherry had said. He was angry with the man who started all this by having sex with his mother and then leaving her alone. The hot water could wash away the tears, but it only seemed to heat up his anger. Strangely enough, Tasso found he wasn’t angry with Cruz or even Dougall Lamont. He didn’t like them, but they hadn’t run out on him or left him alone. They faced him with honest hostility.

He dried off as best he could with the damp towel. He hoped Cruz was gone from the dressing room side of the bathroom. He was ready to continue the fight if they were ready, but next time he would make sure he was somewhere he could get his back to a wall and not be attacked from behind.

Cruz and company were gone. So were his robe and slippers.

Tasso wrapped the damp towel around his waist and walked calmly to his cabin. His luck didn’t hold out as he passed a gaggle of teenage girls. He’d seen them all at one time or another. He was unconcerned about what most of them thought of him, but Anisa led the gaggle. He did care what she thought of him. He nodded politely and continued toward his cabin. He kept his face passive as if being half-naked in the corridor was a common occurrence. Most of the girls giggled and stared openly. Anisa turned her head away and refused to look.

Barely past Anisa and her friends, Tasso stopped in the corridor at a wall mounted first aid kit. He appreciated the thought of having first aid kits readily available all over the ship, but he wondered at the paranoia of the person who had them screwed into wall mounts in every corridor on every deck of the ship. Having read the manual in the trainee cabin he shared with Rod, he knew opening a first aid kit would automatically alert the medical bay. He didn’t give a hoot who got an alert, his arm was still bleeding from the gouges inflicted by Eber’s fingernails. He grabbed a can of liquid bandage, flipped the lid, and sprayed his arm.

He was trying to hold the spray exactly six inches away from his skin, as per the directions, and still spray the back of his arm when the can twisted out of his grasp. He clenched his fist. He barely stopped himself from throwing a punch.

Anisa looked at his clenched fist. “Put your fist away, Señor Menzies. Hold still.” She stretched his bloody arm, holding it away from his body. Her hand was warm against his damp skin. He closed his eyes, telling himself to calm down.

Anisa said, “Here Kendra, hold his arm out tight. This bandage won’t coagulate if he is all wet with blood.” She handed his arm to another girl. She was matter of fact about the way she handled his wet, naked arm. Tasso felt he was no more than a test dummy in a schoolroom exercise. “Sabrina, grab a sponge from the first aid kit—” Anisa said.

Sabrina said, “Eeeewwww. He’s leaking all over.”

“I am fine, ladies.” Tasso said. “I can take care of this.”

Anisa barked, “Cállate, Señor Menzies!”

Tasso did as he was told. He shut up.

A voice blared from a speaker in the first aid kit. “Tasso Menzies, you have opened the first aid kit. Are you or others nearby injured?”

Tasso jumped at the voice. The damp towel at his waist started to slip open. He grabbed it with his free hand. One hand wasn’t enough to hold it up so he pulled his injured arm away from Kendra and gripped his towel tighter. He wasn’t used to having this many girls around, or even just one for that matter. Standing almost naked in front of all these girls was more than he could handle. He was going to embarrass all of them if they didn’t quit pawing at him.

Anisa said, “This is Anisa Rojo-Graham in trainee corridor—”

“No, Anisa. This is Doctor Valenzuela and you didn’t open the first aid kit. Tasso Menzies opened it. Is he unable to speak? Do we need to dispatch a med team? Otto, grab Carlito and get a move on.”

Tasso said, “I’m alright, Doctor. I have a little scratch on my arm. I wanted to use the liquid bandage to stop the bleeding.”

“Nonsense,” Valenzuela said. “The first aid kit scanner shows you are in distress. Elevated pulse, temperature up, a lot of blood flowing from your brain to your … oh, well it may have something to do with your corridor clothing choice and the fact that you have a team of cheerleaders energetically searching you for other injuries.”

Anisa huffed in exasperation, “We were only trying to help.”

Valenzuela said, “Go do your teenage huff at someone else.”

Otto stepped up behind Anisa. He gently lifted the spray can from her hand.

Valenzuela commanded, “Carlito, you clear the corridor. Otto, check on Menzies. The scanner is reading head injuries and bruising along the ribcage.”

Otto winked at Anisa and mouthed, “Thanks. Good job.”

Valenzuela said, “I saw that Otto. Yes, okay, Anisa. You and Kendra did a good job. Sabrina, not so much. Now,
señoritas
, get on with your Saturday.”

Tasso knew enough Spanish words by now to know to call the girls señoritas, but he was Scottish. He refused to turn into a Texican. He said, “Thanks to all of you ladies. I appreciate—”

“Menzies, explain the incident,” Valenzuela interrupted.

Tasso shrugged. Since he couldn’t see the doctor, he looked up at Otto. “I slipped in the shower and scratched myself. The hot water from my shower makes it look like it’s bleeding more than it really is.”

“Nonsense,” Valenzuela said. “You have three parallel gouges down your arm. What did you do, slip against the Wolverine?”

“Wolverine?”

“Wolverine! X-Men? Storm? Blaze? Good God, Tasso ... never mind.” Valenzuela almost shouted. “When you slipped, did you hit your head?”

Tasso nodded. “Um, yes, ma’am. I mean, yes, Doctor Valenzuela.”

Otto’s voice dripped with sarcasm, “Yes, according to the scan, he slipped six times hitting his head each time and it looks like he slipped another four times banging his ribs against … something. It’s nothing serious,
Doctora
. He must have a hard head.”

Valenzuela asked, “Bleeding?”

Otto said, “Stopped and bandaged. DNA trace on the arm gouging taken, recorded, and collated.”

Valenzuela said, “Menzies, get your half-naked ass out of the hallway. I have enough problems without you giving a dozen girls the vapors. Otto, you had best bust nuts and get back up here. We have an epidemic of young boys slipping in the shower. I have a patient with a broken nose. It’s easy to fix, but I need your hands to help hold him still. And we have a broken hand. Also easy to fix, but unfortunately it belongs to Eber Rojo.”

Carlito groaned. “Oh
hijo de puta
! There goes Friday’s game against the Red Spiders.”

Valenzuela grunted, “It’s worse than that. Flacco has a twisted ankle. He’s going to have to stay off his feet for at least a week. Hell, a break we could fix in a couple of days, but a sprain has to heal all on its own.”

Otto laughed, “Quarterback and defensive end, both out. It’s a good thing I didn’t place any bets yet.”

Tasso left everyone behind as he closed the hatch to his cabin. His arm hurt and he felt bruised all over, but he still felt exhilarated. Cruz and his friends may have beaten him up, but they took worse than they gave.

He pulled on a new coverall, dropping the old coverall and the wet towel into the laundry chute. Whistling to himself, he walked out into a corridor full of youngsters. They all stopped talking when he walked past. He grinned in spite of himself. He knew Cruz wouldn’t let this pass without another confrontation, but he was going to try his best to avoid round two.

Tasso decided he might have to stay in the attic for a month to let things cool down. The huge bay was actually a quiet place to sleep. Rodrigo didn’t deliberately wake him up, but that’s what he did every morning no matter how quiet the younger boy tried to be.

Tio Gabe wouldn’t mind. He already allowed Tasso to build a comfortable pile of packing material that made for a nice bed. He would have to slip out for showers, meals and to change clothes. He stopped. Tasso decided he wasn’t going to run and hide. He had a mental picture of his little valley. He loved the place, but he’d been hiding there his whole life. Rather than hunt down the man who had disgraced his mother, he’d hidden away. He’d been only five when his mother let Ol’ Ben kill her, far too young to track down Tas Ortiz, but Tasso was no longer a toddler.

He owned the little valley. Maybe there was no way he could get back to keep his uncle from stealing it, but the land, valley, house and even Ol’ Ben were his and he would never stop fighting to get them back. He would never again use his home as a hideout. He knew he’d just accused Uncle Bruce of trying to and most likely succeeding in stealing his valley. Uncle or not, Tasso would get it back. His uncle walked away from his family. He walked away from being a Menzies. Family didn’t walk away from family, therefore Bruce Menzies was no longer family, no longer his uncle. So be it.

Tasso felt good. His head quit hurting, his ribs felt tight, but not painful. He smiled. So far, it had been a good day off. He actually found some amazing machinery hidden in a back corner of the attic. Finding usable goods in the huge warehouse was like winning a treasure hunt. He talked to two pretty women in a lingerie shop. That was an experience without comparison. He had two pretty girls his own age holding his hand … well, his arm, but that was close enough. Thinking about Anisa’s warm hand on his naked arm started him chuckling to himself. He’d have to try holding hands again, sometime when he wasn’t bleeding.

He’d also survived a good fight. It didn’t matter if Tio Gabe didn’t approve. He’d tried to avoid the fight, but when there was no way out, he gave as good as he got. His grandfather would have approved of that. From what the doctor said, it sounded like he gave better than he got. The only downside was a lot of the crew wasn’t going to be happy with him since he messed up their football game.

Football? What was Texican football? He was going to have to look it up on the shipnet. First, he had a mission to handle and a promise to keep.